Disclaimer: I don't know why this is always said, but I know I should say it anyways. I don't, and never will, own Pern. The only things I do claim ownership to in this story are the original characters that I've created.

Over three days of intense practice and one boring fall-for J'ral-had passed before F'nor went to talk to both rider and dragon. When he entered the weyr, J'ral was oiling an itchy patch of hid behind Jameth's right eye. Standing in the door to the weyr, F'nor watched in silence. It wasn't until after J'ral closed the jar to the oil that he was noticed.

"Wingleader F'nor, please, enter," J'ral said without looking straight at F'nor. "I would offer you a seat, but well..." J'ral didn't have to say why he wouldn't as the only chair in the room was covered in a wine skin and several rolled up pieces of music.

"That's ok, J'ral. I would prefer to stand," F'nor replied as he crossed into the weyr. "I'm here on unfortunate business dealing with the last three practices."

"I know, F'nor."

"I'm afraid that you won't be getting back up in the air any time in the near future," F'nor said sadly. "After three practices, you've only charred fifty percent of the 'Thread' in your zone. Half of what you missed hit other dragons while the rest was either charred by others or burrowed. As of this moment, you're not part of the active wing. You're being transferred to the reserve wing under the leadership of R'bin until such time as the weyrlings reach the point in training that they start to learn drills. After that, you're not a part of the reserve wing."

"Understood, Wingleader F'nor. After that, what happens?"

"If you've made any improvement, than you'll be accepted back in this wing. If not, than you're to return to the reserve wing," F'nor replied as he started to leave the weyr. Just before exiting, he turned around and said, "You have practice today in one hour. Suggest that you prepare your self."

"I will."

With that, F'nor turned and left the weyr, leaving J'ral standing by Jameth. He decided to start a conversation with Jameth. I'm sorry, Jameth, for not being a better rider. Now you won't have a chance to flame Thread for a long time.

I knew when I chose you that you weren't the best rider, J'ral Jameth said, turning his head to look at J'ral through his left eye. I still think that you were the best candidate for me on the Hatching Grounds.

J'ral leaned against Jameth's right leg while thinking about what Jameth just said. But why? We're now both disgraced. No one trusts us to fly with them in formation. What use is there for us?

Jameth was serious when he replied, They'll see, J'ral. Tell me, how accurate are you with predicting the patterns of a Threadfall?

Very, J'ral replied, confused. But why does that matter if we aren't allowed to fly?

That's why you're always distracted during a Fall, isn't it?

Yes, J'ral replied grimly. Unfortunatly, I can't practice because it isn't a real Fall.

We'll figure something out, won't we?

Yes we will. Getting up, J'ral said, Time to get ready for practice.

As he put the riding gear onto Jameth, J'ral thought about how he might be able to use this ability of his, but while still being able to fight Thread. Harnessing the skill could prove beneficial in Threadfall. The number of injuries could be cut back.

"Let's go, Jameth," he said after the riding gear was placed and fastened.

Sorry for another short chapter. Soon, probably next chapter, things will start to play out.